


What We've Lost (In the Fire)

by SaltyServal



Series: SakuAtsu Angst Week 2021 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Atsukita hinted at the end, Break Up, I'm sad too, Kita just about throttles Sakusa at the end, M/M, Miya Atsumu Needs a Hug, Post-Break Up, Sad Miya Atsumu, SakuAtsu Angst Week 2021, Sakusa Kiyoomi Also Needs A Hug, messy break up, sorry :(
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29981646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaltyServal/pseuds/SaltyServal
Summary: “It feels like I’m playin’ with fire, when it comes to him.” Atsumu continued, lowering his voice. He glanced around, making sure no one was listening. “If I say one wrong thing, it explodes. And we fight, and one of us gets hurt all over again.”“Loving someone hurts.” Osamu responded thoughtfully. “But it shouldn’t burn.”Atsumu was burned. He had been burned over and over again.ORAtsumu and Kiyoomi were like fire, and sometimes all flames ever do is destroy.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: SakuAtsu Angst Week 2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2205345
Comments: 16
Kudos: 66
Collections: SakuAtsuAngstWeek





	What We've Lost (In the Fire)

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1, All Tiers (Break-up/Post-Break up, Goodbyes, "you can stop pretending now")

“You’re fucking selfish!” The screams echoed through the small apartment that Sakusa Kiyoomi and Miya Atsumu shared. These screams were quite common, as the two occupants fought quite frequently. Atsumu was sick of it. He was tired of the screaming, of the fighting. When he moved in with Kiyoomi, he hadn’t expected things to be smooth. Getting through his boyfriend’s mysophobia had been something that Atsumu had been struggling with for three years now. They made progress, but it was always a factor in their relationship. 

And a subject of their fights.

Atsumu was a needy person; he could admit that. He craved attention, especially from the people he cared about. His insecurities constantly crippled him. He couldn’t stand the thought of being left, and his paranoia crept up on him. 

Kiyoomi was easily irritated. He didn’t always want to give Atsumu what attention he desired. And most of the time, he could live with that. But sometimes... he felt neglected. 

It was one of those nights.

One of the nights where Atsumu lost his temper, where he snapped. Where he proclaimed the neglect he felt, where he told Kiyoomi exactly what he was feeling. It rarely ended well. 

“At least I can show affection like a normal person!” Atsumu screamed back. “At least I’m not some emotionless wall!” 

“At least I have boundaries!” Kiyoomi refuted instantly. Atsumu could feel his blood boiling. He clenched his fists, practically bristling. He bit back a sob, doing his best to keep his pain inside of him. He couldn’t afford to be weak, to be afraid. He could feel his heart pounding weakly 

“I’m yer boyfriend, Kiyoomi!” He shrieked, his voice breaking as his pain leaked through. Kiyoomi barely reacted, merely brushing some of his black hair out of the way of his eyes. The hair that just this morning, Atsumu had been styling, laughing and smiling with his partner, the person he  _ loved _ . “We set those boundaries together!” 

“So respect mine!” Kiyoomi fired back, barely flinching at the desperation in Atsumu’s voice. 

“I want ta build a life with ya, how can I do that when ya won’t even let me get close?” Atsumu challenged. “I can’t hug you, you don’t let me touch you, we sleep in separate rooms for Christ’s sake. This isn’t fair!” His voice rose in a whine. 

“What the fuck do you know about fairness?” Kiyoomi snapped, his voice laced with venom. “Life isn’t fair,  _ Miya.  _ Get a grip.”

“I’m supposed ta be able to open up to ya about my insecurities, and what I want from this without ya blowing up!” Atsumu ignored the barb that was his last name; Kiyoomi knew how much he hated him using it, how much he despised being called Miya. It was a weapon that his lover used often; and Atsumu had grown numb to its former effects. 

“Listen--”

“Shut the fuck up,  _ Sakusa!”  _ Atsumu hissed, cutting him off. “Yer so intimate with fuckin’ Ushijima Wakatoshi, praising his fuckin’ name left and right, standing shoulder ta shoulder with him every time ya get the chance, like ya can woo him inta leavin’ his boyfriend for ya.” He knew it was a low blow, to drag Ushijima into this. The Adler spiker had been a high school crush of Kiyoomi, and a constant vortex of worry for Atsumu. He still looked at Ushijima like he was the sun in the sky, and Atsumu would give anything for Kiyoomi to look at him like that.

All he got were degrading glares. 

Kiyoomi’s mask wavered, his face shifting to one of shock and guilt, his eyes flashing warily. Atsumu was still standing good three or four meters away. He took a step closer, making sure the hurt on his own expression was blatant. “I don’t want ta hurt like this, Omi. I wanna be able ta love ya without feeling like I hafta compete with someone, and I wanna be able to stand next ta ya without ya throwing a hissy fit!” He spat out the last word, locking eyes with him.

“I can’t control your jealousy.” Kiyoomi responded simply, one eye twitching. 

“Should I be jealous?” Atsumu asked, pointedly resisting the urge to scream  _ “that’s what you got out of that”  _ in his face. His insecurity was rising. He needed to hear one word, one syllable from him. It was a life-line, it could all be over, if he said  _ one damn word.  _

“I dunno, that’s up to you.” The black haired man replied flatly, acting bored. Atsumu’s temper flared again. His chest twinged as he bit back a frustrated scream. 

“Ya could at least try and be sympathetic.” Atsumu snapped, his voice rising again. He rolled his eyes melodramatically. “Oh wait, I forgot I’m talkin’ to an emotionless wall.”

“Stop being childish.” Kiyoomi sneered, his face contorted into a half-snarl. Atsumu stepped back a quarter step, lifting his chin.

“Do you even care about me?” He asked suddenly, his train of thought spiraling. Kiyoomi blinked at him, shocked into silence. 

“Of-of course--” He sputtered, trying to regain control of the situation. Atsumu rolled his eyes, his disbelief shining through. 

“Then why do ya keep hurting me?” Time seemed to freeze as the words escaped his mouth. Atsumu was acutely aware of his pulse, echoing in his ears as Kiyoomi stared at him, his eyes darting between him and the rest of the room. 

“I’m not hurting you.” He whispered. The stifling silence remained, the blood no longer roaring in Atsumu’s ears, but he could still feel the flush across his face. His heartbeat was the one thing keeping him anchored, reminding him that this was not a dream, not a nightmare. 

“Yes you are.” He said, his lower lip trembling. Kiyoomi was oblivious, he didn’t see the hurt he was causing,  _ why couldn’t he see it--  _

It confused Atsumu to no end. Maybe it wasn’t fair to ask him to be so self-aware when he couldn’t be either. But they kept overstepping, kept saying things that were worse and worse until they had nothing left but a heart that would hastily be patched back together in the morning. Atsumu wondered how long it would be until it shattered for good, until they crossed a line so far it was broken forever. Until the final straw, already so close to being pulled away, was ripped to shreds. 

“I can’t help it, not if you’re so weak. Get a thicker skin,  _ Miya _ .” Atsumu stared at Kiyoomi. He blinked at him, trying to keep the tears from forming. He failed, feeling the first one trickle down his face. Kiyoomi saw it too, scoffing slightly. “Typical. I was wondering when you’d start crying.” 

Atsumu couldn’t even respond at first. He felt his back stiffen as he sucked in a sharp breath.  _ He thinks I’m faking it.  _ Kiyoomi’s eyes were glittering like diamonds, hard and without remorse. He didn’t care that he made him cry. 

_ He doesn’t care.  _

Osamu warned him. He told him to end this a month ago. He reminded him that he was playing with fire. That he was begging to be burned.

Atsumu wished he had held himself to the promise he made. Because then he wouldn’t be burning alive, wouldn’t be turning to ashes in front of the person who was supposed to love him more than life itself.

-

_ “Do ya really love him, Atsumu?” Osamu’s question had startled him. The two of them were sitting in the back booth of Osamu’s restaurant, enjoying the leftover onigiri. It was a rare day where both of them could find time to take a break and visit each other. They lived so close, yet so far at the same time. Atsumu was happy to take the day and bother his twin.  _

_ Their conversations had turned to their love lives. Atsumu was thrilled to hear that Osamu was planning to propose to Rintarou soon. The stoic middle blocker had long since stolen his brother’s heart, and Atsumu was happy to welcome him to the family. And he was fine with the discussion staying at the impending engagement and wedding; but Osamu had to ask about Kiyoomi.  _

_ Atsumu was silent when the question was asked. Did he love him? He supposed love was a convoluted thing. It was twisted and warped by millions of people trying to interpret it. No one had managed to successfully describe it. There was no easy answer to why humans choose to fall in love, why they didn’t just reproduce to survive. It was a mystery to the universe, one Atsumu did not care to solve. There were only two things he could say for certain. It had thousands of layers, and it hurt as much as it healed.  _

_ And Atsumu was hurting.  _

_ Osamu was still waiting for an answer, reclining back in his seat. His eyes never left Atsumu’s face, no matter how much he wished they would. He felt trapped under them, forced to answer a question that he himself wasn’t sure of the answer. He bit his lip, keeping his eyes glued to the floor of the restaurant stall.  _

_ “‘Tsumu.” Osamu pressed gently, his voice softening. “It’s alright. You can talk to me.” Atsumu bit his lip harder, a metallic taste filling his mouth. He could feel frustration welling up within him, swirling and mixing with the sadness and pain he felt on a day to day basis.  _

_ “I don’t know, ‘Samu.” He admitted finally, sighing. “I want to love him. I really do. But…” He trailed off, looking back up.  _

_ “Go on.” His brother nodded, coaxing him gently. “This is a safe space.” Normally, Atsumu would have made a comment about him not being a therapist. About how he didn’t need to talk about what was happening in his life to him. But it was a relief to be able to talk, to show how much agony he was in.  _

_ “It feels like I’m playin’ with fire, when it comes to him.” Atsumu continued, lowering his voice. He glanced around, making sure no one was listening. “If I say one wrong thing, it explodes. And we fight, and one of us gets hurt all over again.” _

_ “Loving someone hurts.” Osamu responded thoughtfully. “But it shouldn’t burn.”  _

_ Atsumu was burned. He had been burned over and over again.  _

_ And yet he stayed nonetheless. He danced in the flames, because he was addicted to the hurt. He wanted the burn, because sometimes it was a gentle warmth, and it made him happier than words could describe. So he stayed in the fire, he stayed in the flames.  _

_ And when it burned, he stayed. _

_ When it hurt, he stayed. _

_ When the heat threatened to incinerate him, he stayed.  _

_ He lied to himself, to everyone, and said he would be fine.  _

_ “It burns, ‘Samu.” Atsumu whispered, his voice trembling. He wanted to say more, but his throat closed, and he shook his head, looking away. _

_ “So leave.” Osamu said. He reached out, grabbing his brother’s hand. “Ya don’t have to stay with him.”  _

_ “But—“ _

_ “Atsumu.” Osamu said sternly. “It isn’t fair to either of ya. Someone’s out there, but...Sakusa might not be the one.”  _

_ That was perhaps when Atsumu fully accepted it. Hearing it out of someone else’s mouth, someone telling him he wasn’t crazy. He didn’t know when he fell out of love with Kiyoomi, but it had happened.  _

_ Sakusa Kiyoomi wasn’t the one.  _

_ Atsumu had to douse the fire. He had to put it out and leave, before he was fully consumed, because God knows he would let it happen. So did Osamu, who squeezed his hand, his eyes gentle. _

_ “Atsumu, please. You know it’s for the best.” His brother said.  _

_ “I know.” He said, his voice hoarse. “I’m just scared.” _

_ “Of?” Genuine concern colored his voice. Osamu sat up sharper. “Has the bastard been abusing you, I swear to fucking--” _

_ “No, ‘Samu!” Atsumu gasped, shaking his head. “No, he’s not-- no.” Osamu relaxed, breathing a sigh of relief.  _

_ “Good.” His tone was still cold. “If he ever does anything to ya, I will--” _

_ “I know.” Atsumu cut him off, not particularly interested in hearing his twin’s grandiose plans of murder. “I’m not scared of-of bein’ hurt physically. I know it’s gonna be a hard break-up, ‘Samu. Like ya said, we’re self-destructive. Ticking time bombs. This is gonna set it all off.”  _

_ “You don’t hafta do it alone, ‘Tsumu.” Osamu said quietly.  _

_ “It wouldn’t be fair to do it any other way.” Atsumu retorted. “This started with just us, and that’s how it’ll end.”  _

_ “If yer sure…” Osamu trailed off, running a hand through his hair. The silver dye he had once donned during high school had long since faded, and Osamu had let it return to its natural brown. Atsumu thought it was funny, letting it return to its roots. But he had always been happier with its natural color, and it was fitting for his motto. And Atsumu was happy he was happy. The deep brown suited him, anyway. “Hey, can I ask you something?”  _

_ “What is it?” He tilted his head, curious.  _

_ “Why do you love him?” Atsumu blinked, blindsided by the question. He stared at his hands, once again sent spiralling into his thoughts. He bit his lip, shaking his head with a small laugh. _

_ “Damn, ‘Samu. Ya got me again.” He mumbled, furrowing his brows. “I really don’t know. I just… I don’t know.” Atsumu had no explanation, no real explanation. He scoured his brain, but it turned up nothing, his attempts fruitless.  _

_ Further evidence that it was all doomed from the start.  _

_ Atsumu didn’t know why he chose to date him, to try and love Kiyoomi. Perhaps it was the challenge in it, perhaps it was Kiyoomi’s freakishly good looks, perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. Maybe he just saw himself in the spiker. The drive, the passion… and the loneliness.  _

_ “Atsumu…” Osamu trailed off. _ _  
  
_

_ “It makes me a shitty person, I know. I should-- and I will-- leave him.” Atsumu said softly. He was shocked at how much it continued to hurt, no matter how much he solidified the fact, it still burned.  _

_ “It doesn’t make you shitty.” Osamu hummed in disagreement. “But you do need to end this.” _

_ “I know, and I will.” Atsumu promised. “Once I-I find the right time.”  _

_ Fire was destructive. Fire burned, it did not heal in the hands of men. Everything that him and Kiyoomi had built was just tinder, fuel for the impending inferno. The match had been lit ages ago, and every misstep brought it closer to the kindling. One more step, and once up a time he feared that it would go up in smoke.  _

_ The thought didn’t scare him anymore. The match was in his hand. As much as it hurt, he knew what he had to do. _

_ Atsumu was going to burn it all down.  _

-

“Osamu was right.” Atsumu said, his mouth moving before his brain could fully process what was being spoken, his anger seizing him. “I don’t know why I ever loved you. I probably never did.” Kiyoomi stared at him for a moment, his jaw agape in a small “o” shape. Atsumu realized what he had said and inhaled sharply. He’d gone too far. He wanted to make him hurt, the same way he was hurting, but to say he never loved him… that was a lie, and he had to rectify it, before--

_ “Take it back!” _ Kiyoomi’s eyes were alight with anger. He lunged forward suddenly and grabbed Atsumu’s shirt, twisting it and throwing him to the ground. Atsumu gapped up in him in shock. Kiyoomi, the germaphobe,  _ grabbed him _ . He towered over Atsumu, his height fully played to his advantage. He scrambled back, real fear bubbling up in his chest. Atsumu threw his hands up, intending on protecting himself if Kiyoomi struck out again. His boyfriend  _ never  _ got this angry; and he  _ never  _ lashed out like this. 

Atsumu ducked out of the way and scrambled to the edge of the room. He threw himself behind the couch, trying to steady his breathing. He knelt down as his hand shook. He tentatively looked up, biting his lip as he stared Kiyoomi down. Anger still seemed to radiate off of him, causing him to flinch away again. His boyfriend took a step in his direction. 

“Sakusa,  _ stop _ .” He said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “What the  _ hell’s  _ gotten into ya?” Kiyoomi lowered his fists, and stepped back. His eyes remained cold, but his features softened slightly. 

“Atsu--” Kiyoomi started, a note of panic in his voice.  _ He feels remorse, but no, no he tried to hurt me. You need to get out.  _ His fight or flight instincts were spiking. He didn’t feel safe, he had to run. 

“No. D-don’t.” Atsumu stuttered slightly, standing up. He edged past his boyfriend (or soon to be ex. He was so tired of the fights). He reached for his coat, never taking his eyes off of Sakusa lest he made another move. His heart was racing. “We can’t go on like this.”

“Atsumu, please, I’m sorry--” Sakusa tried again. He reached toward him, but he flinched away.

“Don’t touch me. We’re supposed to respect each other’s boundaries, we’re supposed to respect each other. But-but we just can’t do it, can we?” Atsumu took in a deep, shuddering breath. It was time. He had to pull the plug, he had to end this before it got worse. “We fight every day. We barely kiss, even though we’ve been going out for two years. And-and now you tried to punch me. I don’t feel safe, I don’t feel loved. I want to feel  _ loved _ , Sakusa.” The black haired man’s eyes widened in shock. He knew what was coming. Atsumu didn’t want to say the words. He could feel tears pricking his eyes. He loved Sakusa so much it hurt, but this couldn’t go on.

“Atsu-”

“I’m breakin’ up with ya, Omi- Sakusa. I can’t go on like this.” Atsumu said, the first tear trickling down his cheek. “I’m sorry. But I’m done. I-I loved ya. You can stop pretending now.” He grabbed his wallet and phone off of the counter, opening the door. He didn’t want to hear Sakusa try and convince him to stay.

Because he knew he would. Atsumu would stay if Sakusa asked him to, despite everything that happened. He would wake up next to him, but there would be a barrier between them. A fracture that could never be repaired, that would grow and grow and grow until it shattered everything. 

Maybe it had already happened. 

Atsumu shut the door of the apartment behind him, not looking back at Sakusa. He took three steps before the first sob worked its way free. He made it to the curb before it occurred to him he had nowhere to go. He watched his breath crystallize on the air as tears fell down his face. He pulled out his phone. 

He scrolled through his contacts, looking for someone. His finger hovered over Osamu’s contact. Atsumu sighed as he pressed the call button, holding the phone to his ear. The night was cool, a breeze drifting through the air. It caused him to shudder, making him regret storming out without his coat. 

“Atsumu?” Osamu answered immediately, his voice concerned. “Are ya okay?”

“No.” He said, his voice breaking. “I’m not.”

“Where are ya?” Osamu’s voice turned serious. “I’ll come pick ya up right now.”

“Aren’t ya-ya in Tokyo?” Atsumu stuttered slightly, the tears still falling down his face. “For the new branch?” 

“Yeah, but I can be back in… uh… three hours by train.” Osamu responded curtly. “Yer more important than my business.”

“I’ll be fine, ‘Samu. I can go somewhere else.” Atsumu said, shrugging. “I’ll go stay with—“

“Where are ya right now.” Osamu’s voice was demanding, anger edging it. “Did ya leave yer own home?” 

“Technically, it’s Omi’s—“ Atsumu started. 

“Did I fuckin’ ask who’s it was?” Osamu spat, causing him to flinch slightly. “Where are ya?”

“Outside…” He mumbled finally. “Walkin.’”

_ “Atsumu!”  _ Osamu half-shrieked. “It’s the middle of the damn night, and it’s fuckin’ freezin’! Ya can’t stay out there, ya idiot!”

“I’ll be fine—“

“No, ya won’t.” Osamu huffed. “Listen, is there anyone ya’d be willin’ to stay with?” 

Atsumu paused. He didn’t want to go to anyone on the team. They would ask too many questions, ones he didn’t know if he was ready to answer. Atsumu continued to scroll through his contacts, blinking as his eyes fell upon one. He bit his lip nervously, hard enough to draw blood. 

“Atsumu? Are ya still there?” Osamu’s faint voice came from the phone, still irate. “Ya better find someone before I get in line for the train, cause ya know I  _ will  _ come back if ya don’t—“

“Kita-San.” Atsumu said quietly. “He lives close by. I could go stay with him for a day or two before I officially move out of-of Omi— Sakusa’s apartment.” 

“Are ya sure?” Osamu asked. “I can come home—“

“‘Samu, I’ll be fine.”  _ A lie _ . Atsumu didn’t know when he would be “fine,” but he refused to drag Osamu away from Tokyo and his business. “I’m gonna go catch the train to Kobe. I’ll talk to ya in the morning.” 

“Okay.” Osamu finally conceded. “Stay safe.” 

“I will.” Atsumu promised. “Hey… ‘Samu?”

“Yeah?” 

“Thank you.” Atsumu said earnestly. “Ya’ve helped me more than ya know tonight.”

“Yer my brother.” Osamu said gruffly. “I’d do anything for ya.” 

“Yeah… but this has been a hard situation.” Atsumu countered. “Ya didn’t have to get caught up in my drama and shit.” 

“As I said, yer my brother and I love ya. When yer hurtin’, I’m hurtin’. I’m going to snap Sakusa’s stupid wrists in half when I see him next.” Osamu declared. Atsumu laughed softly, wiping some of his tears away. 

“Don’t go to jail for me, ya moron.” He chided. 

“Fine.” Osamu said begrudgingly. “I’ll be back in a few days, okay? Ya can move in with me and Rin worst case.” 

“We’ll see.” Atsumu hummed. “I’m gonna go now. Talk to ya later, dumbass.”

“See you later, asshole.” Osamu cut the line, and Atsumu tucked his phone back into his pocket. He felt dazed, still reeling from what had happened. He should text Kita… and yet his feet moved on their own, taking him to the train station. 

His phone was buzzing, and it had been since he called Osamu, each vibration spaced mere minutes apart. Atsumu sighed as he sat down on one of the train seats and pulled it out.

**Bokkun:** Tsum Tsum are you okay??

**Bokkun:** where are you!?

**Bokkun:** sakusa said something happened 

**Shou-kun:** ATSUUUUUMU 🥺

**Shou-kun:** RESPOND TO MEEEE OR BOKUTOOO 

**Shou-kun:** we’re worried about you 

**Inunaki:** Astumu, where are you?

**Cap’ Meian:** Atsumu, please answer your phone or texts. Everyone is worried about you. It’s okay if you need a break, just ask Coach. We don’t know what’s happening, but we do care 

**Coach Foster:** Miya, answer your damn texts. You’re worrying us. 

**Omi-Omi 💖:** Atsumu, please at least talk to someone else. I’m sorry. I love you please come home. 

Atsumu stared blankly at his phone. He quickly cleared the message from Kiyoomi, not wanting anything to do with him. He sighed, opening the MSBY group chat.

**Me:** im alright guys just please leave me alone

**Bokkun:** Wait, where are you right now?

**Bokkun:** This is Akaashi, by the way. Bokuto is bawling right now. He’s really worried, Miya-san.

**Me:** please give me a little bit of space 

Atsumu shut his phone off before anyone else could text him. He took in a shuddering breath, desperately trying to keep his tears in. He was being selfish. He should turn around and go back to Osaka. Back to Kiyoomi. 

But he didn’t want to. He wanted to run, and not stop until he felt  _ safe _ . 

The train ride itself was relatively short. He disembarked without fanfare at the station. If anyone recognized him, they didn’t show it. A small saving grace. He didn’t need the press getting this story and running with it. 

Atsumu floated through the town like a ghost. He had lived here for most of his short life, only moving away to Osaka a few years ago. He remembered every house, every store, every location. The sleepless nights he had spent wandering the streets paid off. 

Atsumu finally found his destination. He stared at the house, amicable in nature. He sucked in the sharp breath, trying to hide the tears once again threatening to pool in his eyes. He knew it was a safe space, and his body was trying to relax and let everything out. Atsumu couldn’t let that happen, he wanted to be strong. _ I’m not weak, I’m not weak, I’m not weak.  _ He leaned forward and knocked on the door. 

The door swung open. Atsumu stared at the person, his lower lip wobbling as his emotions continued to swirl within him. Shinsuke Kita looked at him in shock. Atsumu supposed it was rather odd for his friend to show up on his doorstep in the dead of night. He wouldn’t have been angry if Kita had turned him away. But the former captain stayed silent, merely pulling the door open further and allowing him to stumble inside. Kita gently grabbed his arm and guided him to the couch in the center of the room.

Atsumu collapsed onto the couch, the sobs finally beginning to overtake him.  _ Weak, weak, weak.  _ Kita settled down next to him, still not speaking. 

“I-I-“ He tried to say, his tongue twisting in his mouth. He wanted to apologize, but the words would not form. 

“It’s okay.” Kita said softly. “Osamu told me what was going on.” Atsumu wanted to give him a grateful smile, wanted to say thank you, but he still could do nothing but cry. Kita gently pulled him into a hug. Atsumu stiffened briefly, shocked by the touch. He relaxed mere seconds later, the touch gentle. The embrace was warm. The tears still fell. 

“Kita...Shinsuke...sorry...” Atsumu sobbed out, clinging to his former captain. He could barely form words, still unable to say sorry or thank you. But Kita still said nothing, understanding the turmoil and letting the blonde sob into his shoulder. He felt him stroking his head, keeping him close. 

And Atsumu felt safe. 

“It’s okay.” Kita murmured. “I’ve got you.” Atsumu couldn’t respond, his words catching in his throat. The tears continued to flow as he shook. 

“I-I-“ he stumbled out again. His voice cracked as he cried out again, his thoughts barely coherent. He supposed it was fine, and probably for the best for him to break down. He had been pushed to his limit, and this was the cataclysm from it. Kita stayed quiet, his arms wrapped firmly around Atsumu. 

“It’s okay. You don’t have to speak, it’s okay.” Kita said softly. “You’re hurting, and that’s okay. You’re safe now, I promise.” 

“I-I’m s-so tired of a-all t-the f-fights.” Atsumu tripped over his words, his tongue heavy in his mouth. 

“I understand. It’s okay, you’re okay.” Kita reassured him, over and over again. Atsumu began to zone out, drifting away, a dull ring in his ears. He was still in shock, the whole ordeal still rattling him to his bones. 

He blinked and he saw him.

Dark hair, curling to frame his face. Dark eyes, deeper than pools of water. He was still staring into his soul, even though he was nowhere near him, kilometers and kilometers between them. Atsumu could still feel him. 

And it made his skin crawl. He nestled closer to Kita.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, focusing on his breathing, trying to slow his heart rate. Kita didn’t protest, not making any move to leave. He hummed quietly, an unfamiliar melody. His sobbing subsided, until only silent tears were trickling down his face. 

“Atsumu… if you don’t mind me asking… why are you here? Osamu told me to expect you, but I don’t know why. You’re welcome here, of course, but what- or who hurt you?” Kita said after a while, his arms still firmly around his shoulders. Atsumu took a deep breath, staring at the coffee table blankly. 

“Omi—Sakusa and I are done.” He forced out, his voice trembling. “It… it was bad.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kita coaxed gently. There was a foreign edge to his tone, a small burst of anger blooming. Atsumu stiffened slightly. He hadn’t even told Osamu what Kiyoomi almost did to him. And to be honest, he didn’t want to. Osamu would freak out, and Atsumu didn’t want to cause more trouble. If the team found out, it wouldn’t end well either. 

“Can ya... not tell anyone if I tell ya?” He said finally. Kita would keep it a secret. Atsumu felt like he could trust him with this, to honor his wishes. 

“It depends.” Kita said simply. Atsumu sighed, but nodded. He understood his worry, he supposed. He would probably be the same way.

“We started yellin’. I don’t even know what it was over.” Atsumu began, unconsciously clutching Kita’s shirt tighter. “We- we both said some really bad things. And I went too far. And he grabbed my shirt… and I ran. I ran without even thinkin’ what would happen next, where I would go.”

Kita didn’t respond for a long moment. He shook his head slightly. “I’m sorry, Atsumu. Neither of you deserved that.” 

“Yeah, well, it happened.” He said stiffly. He blinked back up at Kita. “Kita-San, can I stay with ya for the night?” Atsumu asked quietly. The white haired man jumped slightly. His features softened once more and he nodded. 

“Of course, Atsumu.” Kita murmured. “I’ll go set up the spare futon.” 

“Wait.” Atsumu clung to his shirt, sitting up slightly. “Can ya stay... _ here _ ?” Kita blinked at him, but settled back down. Atsumu snuggled closer, letting the other man hold him close. He had never felt this calm around Kiyoomi; and yet Kita presented an aura of peace, one Atsumu could get lost in. 

“Alright.” Kita smiled softly, pulling him closer. “You’re safe, I promise.” 

Atsumu believed him. His breathing was still staggered, as he inhaled sharply every few breaths, but at least he wasn’t crying anymore. Kita tugged a blanket off of the top of the couch and draped it across Atsumu’s shoulders. A wave of exhaustion hit him as the events of the day finally caught up with him. His fight or flight response was finally cooling off, his muscles sagging as he finally relaxed. 

“It’s okay, Atsumu, you can sleep.” Kita murmured. “I’ll be here all night, okay?” Atsumu would have replied, but his eyelids were already half closed. He willingly fell back into the embrace of sleep, his mind finally slowing down and allowing him to rest. 

He dreamt of nothing, at least nothing he could remember. A small saving grace. Atsumu didn’t want his dreams to be full of skewed events of the past night, nothing about Kiyoomi or the team. No fires that he had started, nothing of the bridges he had burned. 

Atsumu awoke to the smell of tea. Morning light filtered through the half closed blinds of the window. His head was resting on the couch cushion, and he was still wrapped up in a blanket. He blinked, slightly confused. Why wasn’t he home, with Omi—  _ oh.  _ He took in a shuddering breath. Right. He was at Kita’s, because he had to get away from Kiyoomi. Atsumu shifted slightly, glancing over to where Kita’s spot had been. It was empty, causing a small jolt of panic running through him.  _ Did he leave?  _

“Atsumu-kun?” Kita’s voice floated through the house, coming from the kitchen. Atsumu relaxed immediately. He pushed himself up, sitting upright on the couch. 

“Yeah.” He said through a yawn. He shook his head, rubbing his eyes. “I’m up.” 

“Good morning, then.” Kita responded, shuffling into the sitting room. He was carrying a cup of tea, which he set in front of Atsumu. “It’s chamomile.” He explained. “It’s a calming tea. I didn’t know if you’d need it after—if—“ 

“Thank you, Kita-san.” Atsumu cut him off with a pained smile. “That was awfully considerate of ya.”

“You are a guest here.” Kita said with a shrug. “It’s simply courtesy.” 

“Ya let me sleep on yer lap, for Christ’s sake.” Atsumu pointed out. “Ya’ve done enough for me already.” 

“You’re one of my closest friends, Atsumu. Of course I’ll help you.” The former captain said, his face flushed slightly. Atsumu chuckled at his expression. “What?” Kita asked, his face turning even pinker. 

“Yer cute when ya get flustered.” Atsumu said with a grin. Kita yelped and buried his face in his hands. Atsumu leaned over and patted his shoulder. “There there. Yer okay.” 

“Hnrg…” Kita mumbled. He peeked out from his hands and locked eyes with Atsumu. He flashed him another grin, causing the white haired man to let out an  _ eep  _ and covered his face again.

Atsumu leaned forward and grasped his tea, taking a sip. He hummed to himself, nodding. “Ya make good tea, Kita-san.”

“Thank you…” His face was mostly back to normal, the tips of his ears still pink. Atsumu downed the rest of the tea in one go. He set the cup back down and tilted his head thoughtfully.

“Hey…” He mused, tapping his chin.

“Hmm?” Kita turned his attention back to him, his eyes alert. “Do you need something? More tea?”

“Nah, nothin’ like that.” Atsumu said quickly. “Just...Can I call ya Shinsuke?” He asked sheepishly, grinning once more. Kita blinked at him, a small smile dancing across his face. He reached forward and squeezed his hand gently. 

“Yeah, I would like that.”

-

Sakusa stared across the street, his breath crystallizing in the cool air. He stared at the café across the street, the café that Atsumu and him went on their first date, the one they went to every time they fought. They made up over chamomile tea and small vanilla scones. 

Atsumu would laugh and say everything was okay. He would brush it all off. They would be back to normal in a few days. 

Except Atsumu hadn’t contacted him in three days. 

Sakusa glanced in each direction and crossed the road, ignoring the cars. He pushed open the door and listened to the bells jingle. The barista looked up and smiled, waving to him. He approached the counter slowly. 

“Heya Sakusa-kun! I suppose it’ll be your usual?” She said with a brilliant smile. 

“Just a coffee today, please.” He said quietly, not meeting her eyes. 

“Is Miya-kun here as well?” Sakusa stiffened at the mention of him. He stared blankly at the back wall, past the barista, past the menu. He shut his eyes and shook his head once. He couldn’t think of it right now. 

“Not here today, I’m afraid.” He murmured. 

“Right.” The barista looked like she wanted to say more, but clearly thought the better of it. “I’ll have the coffee right up.”

Sakusa quietly thanked her as she handed it to him. He exited the shop without another word. He stood on the corner for a moment, letting the gentle breeze ruffle his hair as sorry continued to circulate his brain. 

Osamu was the only one who knew where Atsumu was. He refused to say anything, respecting his brother’s wishes. He blocked Sakusa after some _ rather harsh  _ words were exchanged; he couldn’t say he completely deserved it. Bokuto and Hinata both tried to find Atsumu’s location with no success. Osamu was unyielding, save for Coach Foster, who, upon learning the situation, refused to look Sakusa in the eye during practice. 

He deserved that one for sure. He stared at his hands numbly, the hands he almost hit Atsumu with. The memory still scared him; the loss of control, and the sheer anger he felt. Sakusa squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, shaking his head. He tilted it up, letting the cool sunbeams bounce across his face. 

When he opened his eyes, he inhaled sharply. 

Sakusa’s limbs were numb with shock as he gazed across the café’s sitting area. The table on the far left held a familiar sight; blonde hair, bright brown eyes, and contagious smile that lit up a room. Sakusa would have normally walked over there, holding their food and drinks as they worked out whatever stupid argument they had had the night before.

But there was no vacant seat. 

White hair, gentle hazel eyes, a warm grin. Shinsuke Kita, the former captain of Inarizaki. Sakusa remembered Atsumu talking about him. He had always felt a stab of jealousy when he heard the name mentioned; he always felt as if he had to fight against him to hold Atsumu’s heart. Sakusa thought he was out of danger of losing to him, since high school had long since passed. 

_ Just like him and Wakatoshi.  _ Sakusa jolted at the realization. His heart sank even further, guilt gnawing at his insides.  _ Fucking hypocrite, that’s what I am.  _

Now he could feel Atsumu slipping away, being drawn away from him and leaving him behind. Sakusa had fucked up, he could feel it in his bones. 

He wanted to leave. He wanted to walk away, to forget what he was witnessing. He wanted to pretend that everything was okay, that  _ it was all normal.  _ But his traitorous legs refused to move, staying rooted to their spot. His jaw worked furiously beneath his mask, desperately trying to process everything.

He’d found Atsumu, but he was losing him. 

Kita looked up, his eyes meeting Sakusa’s own. The other man jolted slightly, his smile faltering for half a heartbeat. He exchanged a few more words with Atsumu before standing up and walking over to Sakusa. He could feel a tremor running down his spine as he kept his eyes on the approaching man. The brown orbs were devoid of any warmth, pure ice seeming to cover them. 

“Sakusa.” Kita said, keeping his arms crossed. “I would use honorifics, but I fear I have no respect left for you.” Sakusa stayed silent, unable to keep the glare out of his expression. Kita lifted his chin. “What are you doing here?”

“I come here frequently.” Sakusa deadpanned. “I happen to like their coffee.” 

“Mhm. Cut the bullshit.” Kita’s tone was sharp, making Sakusa wince. He wasn’t used to the sheer hostility in the white haired man’s demeanor. It was foreign. “Atsumu told me what this place meant to you two.” 

“...I—“ Sakusa began, bristling. Kita held up a hand. He shut his mouth, tugging his mask nervously. 

“Sakusa, get out of here.” He said softly, his tone still commanding. “You’ve lost him.” Normally, Sakusa would have argued with him, would have fought against it. 

But as he looked over at Atsumu, who was aimlessly scrolling his phone, there was an undeniable lightness to his aura. His shoulders weren’t sagging, and his resting expression had reset to a small smile. He looked happy, happier than he ever did around Sakusa. 

It stung. But he wanted the best for him, despite everything, because deep down  _ he did care.  _

“Are-are you planning on dating him…?” He asked quietly. Kita tilted his head, humming to himself. Sakusa fought the urge to start yelling at him to answer the damn question. 

“I don’t know yet.” Was all the white haired man said, his expression still neutral. “We’ll see.” Sakusa bit his lip. 

He knew that Atsumu would say yes. He was already looking at Kita with stars in his eyes, as if he was the galaxy. He never looked at Sakusa like that.

But then again, neither did he. 

“Sakusa, I am going to ask you one more time to leave.” Kita said, his voice cold. “Get away before Atsumu sees you.” Sakusa cast one more forlorn glance over at the café table. Atsumu was snickering at something on his screen, his eyes sparkling. The way the sun made him look even brighter than normal

Another thing he lost. 

Kita was still staring at him. Sakusa was intimidated by the farmer. Hours in the fields certainly did wonders for his physique; even with his own training, Sakusa was certain Kita could crush him. 

“I’m sorry for intruding, Kita-sama.” Sakusa said stiffly. He backed away and fled, walking away quickly. He felt Kita’s eyes bore into his back, spurring him on. 

Sakusa continued to walk, lost in thought. His coffee had long since gone cold. He navigates the crowd with a blank mind, the image of Kita and Atsumu sitting together, laughing and talking without a care in the world. 

He felt tears blur in the corners of eyes. The dropped down and he averted his gaze, keeping his eyes down. He wiped them as quick as he could, but the tears continued to fall. He wanted to get home, where he could break down in peace. 

“Sakusa?” A familiar voice said. Sakusa stiffened. He turned around, doing his best to keep his expression neutral. Bokuto and Akaashi were standing a few meters away, wearing matching gazes of concern. 

“Yes?” He said curtly. Bokuto, for once toned down due to the disappearance of Atsumu. He hadn’t been loud for the last three practices, which would have been a blessing if it weren’t for the situation. 

“Why are you crying?” Bokuto asked bluntly. Akaashi elbowed his side, causing the spiker to yelp. Sakusa said nothing, narrowing his eyes. 

“What Kou meant to say was—“ Akaashi began, clearing his throat. “—are you okay?”

“No.” Sakusa replied, turning around and walking away. He didn’t bother to see if they followed him. He didn’t feel like speaking to anyone. 

Not when everything kept going wrong.

Sakusa was relieved when he arrived home. He raced into his apartment, slamming and locking the door behind him. He stumbled to the bedroom. Atsumu’s side was untouched, the sheets still ruffled from when he left. He ripped open the closet. Most of his clothes were still hanging there, including his jersey. Sakusa tugged it down, holding it close to his chest. He traced the number on it, another choked sob escaping him. 

Sakusa flopped against the bed, laying on his side and shutting his eyes as he imagined Atsumu next to him. But when he opened his eyes, he was not there. He was absent, because Sakusa drove him away and he was gone, gone, gone.

Sakusa grabbed his phone as he laid on the bed. He scrolled through his contacts, until he found the one he wanted. The one that he had put a heart next to, the one for the person he loved.

He opened the messages as his hand shook. Tears threatened to spill overboard from his eyes once more. He had to try, he couldn’t give up.

Sakusa knew he fucked up. He knew that he had gone too far. He bit his lip as he typed the short messages, silently begging for a reply. 

_ Come home to me.  _

He watched the little dots on the screen. Hope leapt in his chest. Maybe, just maybe.

_ Humans are self-destructive. For some reason, we take great joy in destroying everything we have, everything we love. Humans burn everything down in their path, and without a shred of remorse.  _

_ Fire creates, but in the hands of humans, it destroys.  _

Sakusa’s fists were white around his phone as the reply came through. He read it once, twice, before setting his device. He slumped against the couch, and the tears trickled down his face, faster and faster. 

He lost. 

  
  


**Kiyoomi:** Atsumu

**Kiyoomi:** Atsumu I’m so sorry

**Kiyoomi:** We can work this out, there’s still a chance

**Atsumu** : goodbye Omi. 

_ This person has blocked you. No messages or calls will be sent through.  _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> howdy!  
> I have been waiting for this week and it's here! I have... many things in store for my OTP and hope y'all enjoy reading them!  
> Day one is easing everyone into it. The betas are crying over the next days. Good luck. 
> 
> I have a discord server! If you’re interested in joining, click [Click here!](%E2%80%9C)
> 
> Stay safe out there! See you tomorrow!


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